


Keep on Dancing

by Initial_Non-Applicable_ (Top7879)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Dancer!Harry Potter, Dancer!Tom Riddle, Gen, I know nothing about dancing, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-09
Updated: 2020-09-16
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:28:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26378827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Top7879/pseuds/Initial_Non-Applicable_
Summary: Harry loves to dance. He learned under her watchful eye how to stretch, spin and jump. It makes him remember the times he sat on the bench and listened to her stories. It lets him feel like flying, just like the old park swings used to.Harry loves to dance. It is something, oh so, personal to him. So Harry dances in a hidden away place where he cannot be found. He dances in a place where it is him and only him unless one day he leads someone there.Harry loves to dance- so hedances
Relationships: Harry Potter/Tom Riddle
Comments: 3
Kudos: 97





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks Chibi for beta-ing this work  
> Constructive criticism is welcome

Harry ran forward- jumping over railings, tripping past people, he was cutting it close. Usually he’d  _ be there _ by now, but the teacher didn’t let anyone leave until class presentations were completed. 

Jump, jump,  _ leap- legs straight, arms steady,  _ his bag thudded against his back, heavy with school books.  _ There-  _ one sharp turn and the old door opened with a crash. Harry threw down his bag, turning on the old radio that was sitting on even older crates. He got into the starting position right in the middle of the broken down warehouse. Most days, he was more careful and would search around for debris and anything else that could cause an injury, but he had  _ no time and- _

_ Btzzt- “WE-COME TO CHANNEL 534-” _

__ __ __ __ __ __ _ “-aS ALWAYS WE BRING TO YOU 5’oCLOCK CLASSICAL HOUR” _

-Harry closed his eyes and  _ breathed _

* * *

The lady was strong. Harry could tell by the way she stood- the presence that absolutely radiated from her was awe inspiring, even from such a young age. He remembered how her hands held his, large compared for his bone thin wrists. He remembered the sandwiches and juice left out for him when Harry came to visit and decided that there was no rejecting her unspoken request. He nodded. And for the first time, he had bruises from doing something he enjoyed.

* * *

The music started and Harry lost himself - _ one two three, one two three-  _ he was no longer in an abandoned warehouse but in a place beyond anything he could imagine - _ jump  _ **_here,_ ** _ turn  _ **there-** He no longer was in ratty clothing too big for his body, and while normally he could feel them pull at awkward moments,  _ now-here- _ **_today_ ** he barely noticed them at all. 

As the music reached a crochedo, Harry started to spin and spin and spin and  _ stop- reposition- one two three, one two three _ \- Steady, along with the song, he had to keep in time. Step, step, step-  _ leg up. arm out and head b a c k, further further, until-  _ Harry brought his legs down and together, the beat started to quicken once more - _ hop hop hop, and spin and turn-  _ arms down now, arms up now, he can’t stop moving, a step to  _ here _ , a step to  _ there- the music is coming to an end now.  _ One last hurrah, what to do? What to do? A spinning leap, high above it all sounds  _ wonderful. Jump, Spin spin spin, and remember you must come down. _ Land like you are the one who made the choice, like gravity has no choice but to bend for you. Don’t show any regret unless you want the audience to feel bad- “ _ don’t show sadness unless it’s a sad dance” (hands coming forward to lift his head)- _ Harry smiles, feet on the ground and toes go pointed.  _ Pose _

* * *

Harry first saw her on a hot, bone melting day. The kind of day that stopped even Dudley from wanting to chase him around, instead opting to stay inside in the cool, air conditioned house. She was just sitting there, watching the children play on the playground, fanning herself with a newspaper. Harry headed towards the swings- he always did when there was one free- and made himself comfortable. He knew how to swing himself; he had to learn or he would have never gotten off the ground. Luckily one of the bigger kids took the time to show him how, on a day when Dudley was busy. Harry swung there, going up and down- _ kick your feet to go back, curl your legs when you go forward.  _ Harry swung there until the sun decided it was time to start coming down, and he started to kick back harder when he realized his time was just about up. 

Harry took a deep breath and prepared himself and when he reached the peak he threw himself off the swings. For a moment it was like the world froze, too large clothing flapping in the air.  _ He loved the feeling of being weightless, like he could just decide to fly away and gravity would let him.  _ Then he started to fall, go down as all things have to. He knew how to brace himself, legs angled to the ground, he’s done this before after all. His thin, knobbly legs connected and he- _ doN’T STUMBle- he’s fine, he did it! -  _ and he looked up to see her watching him. She waved when she saw him looking back. Harry waved back and ran home before curfew was enforced.

* * *

Harry  _ met  _ her for the first time on a significantly cooler day. Dudley decided it was the perfect day to go out and chase Harry around, in fact. Harry usually ran into the obscure parts of town, places that Dudley and his friends would be too scared to follow him into. That day though, he ran to the park, hoping one of the bigger kids would put a stop to his cousin.

She was there again, this time reading a book. Harry moved around the bench, hoping her attention stayed on her story. Adults weren’t the best chance he had, most of them stating “boys will be boys”. 

He noticed an opened swing and immediately stopped. Dudley wouldn’t chase after him unless he decided it was worth the risk of being kicked. Dudley didn’t care  _ that much  _ about bothering Harry, did he? His feet decided the answer was  _ no. _

Harry swung up and down and up and down, until Dudley and his group caught up.  _ Up and down and up and down-  _ Dudley’s friends decided the answer was  _ yes _ . He tightened his grip as the group approached the swing set. The lady was watching.

The group wasn’t so stupid to go in front of him, and there was a chain-linked fence close enough to the swingset that Dudley and his little gang couldn’t all fit behind. They approached from the sides and started to grab at the hanger that held his seat up, throwing his momentum off. Harry held on, and kept kicking back- while the combined efforts made him feel dizzy, he was thrown in random directions with his legs flying all over the place. Dudley’s little gang finally decided they would rather not be kicked in the head and left Harry to stop swinging.

The moment he was able, he got up- too quickly in fact- and fell right into the wood chips that surrounds the playground equipment. Harry braced himself and felt sharp pricks in his hands, for splinters starting to make him bleed.

Harry sat there for a few long seconds, until a hand was offered to him- to help him stand back up. When he looked up he saw the lady, giving Harry a warm smile as she helped lead him to the fountain to wash his wounds. Harry walked home that day with bandages plastered on his hands and knees.

* * *

Harry first spoke to her soon after. She noticed him right away; he had barely stepped into the park when she waved. She was holding another book, and even though there was a swing open, he hesitated and decided to take a chance. He moved. He took step after step towards her bench, nervously making his way forward. She looked surprised, obviously not expecting him to come towards her. He stopped a bit away, out of arm's reach, and asked what her book was about. The lady smiled and went into great detail about magical lands where genies exist and helped grant the wishes of their chosen king. She regaled him with tales of world changing fights and the notable friends made until the sun set. Once dusk had come, Harry realized it was time to say goodbye and ran home.

The next time he saw her, sitting on that same bench with yet a different book, he approached her with no hesitation and once again stood out of arm’s reach and asked what her book was about. Once again the lady smiled and spoke about fantastical worlds with magic and adventure until it was time for Harry to leave again.

From that point on, whenever Harry saw the lady sitting there was a book (they were always different), he came closer and asked her what it was about. And every time she would tell amazing stories until sunset. And every time Harry stood a little bit closer than before, until he sat right on the bench next to her.

* * *

Harry had first danced with her long after that. Weeks into knowing each other, he was brought to her home. It looked how he expected it to look, but at the same time, it was different. It had books everywhere and shelves on every wall, the chairs were a dark leather- just like her bag- and you could see the kitchen from the doorway. 

It had brightly colored walls and pictures on the few shelves with no books. The one that caught his eye was a black and white photo of a young girl.

Months into knowing her, and he finally worked up the courage to ask her about the picture that sat on the living room shelf. The girl had a familiar looking bun, tied tight, and wore a leotard while holding a trophy. It was signed “Minne Mcgonagall''. The lady smiled like she always did when he asked a question, she explained that was her when she was younger and asked him if he wanted to know what dancing felt like. Harry of course, said  _ yes. _

They moved the furniture to create an empty space, then she started to show him how to stretch. Harry had never seen her laugh so much, right then when she was there besides him, having them go through each dance step together. 

That was the first time he danced with her, but certainly not the last.

* * *

  
  


The first time Harry danced  _ for her  _ was about a year into knowing her. The lessons didn’t take place everyday, they didn’t even take place every time they saw each other. Harry still asked about her books and swung on the swing sets.

At one point Harry realized he might even be friends with this woman who seemed larger than life when she told him what it meant to her to  _ dance.  _ He enjoyed her stories, sought her out for them, and in return she seemed to just want his company. Harry was… happy. He looked forward to the next time they spoke, and it seemed to him that the lady felt the same way. That was why he was so bothered when one day she seemed upset. Her stories trailed off, and her mind seemed to be elsewhere when they posed together.

Harry looked to her and asked what was wrong, but she would just shake her head and reply  _ nothing.  _ After a few days like this, she seemed to get more and more sad, Harry made a choice. She loved dancing- even if she wasn’t the one to dance. She watched people twirl and leap on the TV and smiled. He wanted her to smile- so what if he twirled and leapt for her? Yes, he could do that, but it would have to be a surprise. 

For the first time, Harry snuck away from chores (when he could afford to, of course) to practice what he was taught. He remembered to stretch, to keep his arms straight and he spun. Harry spun and spun and  _ spun and- _ his foot missed the landing, causing him to fall. He decided that this was going to be harder than he thought.

Harry paid attention to the lady at their lessons. He paid attention to the way her body held herself, the way her arms reached, and the way that her feet landed on the ground. Harry learned how she moved so he could master it himself.

Harry learned how to spin and spin and  _ spin and stop,  _ Harry learned how to  _ hop hop hop and  _ **_leap_ ** . Harry learned all this and one day when he came to visit, he made the lady sit down and  _ watch. _

He was young, clumsy, and stiff but he had practiced and practiced until his legs couldn’t move and that dedication paid off. Harry made no mistakes and when he looked at the lady she was  _ crying. _

At first he thought he did something wrong, that what he did was some sort of mistake- but while the lady had tears running down her face, she also had this  _ smile.  _ She smiled like the world had finally done her right. After that, Harry promised himself that he would practice more.

* * *

The first time Harry danced for  _ himself  _ was years into doing lessons. It happened during a day where Dudley decided to chase after him. Harry ran, his legs were strong after so many dance lessons, and went towards an old, abandoned building. It seemed like the perfect hiding place considering his cousin had recently watched a movie where gang fights took place in an old decrepit neighborhood. His only way in was through an empty window, because the door stayed shut no matter how much he wiggled the handle. 

Harry was lucky there was no broken glass to stab him, because he fell right in. It took a moment for him to actually look around and realize that he was in a warehouse. When he did though, he fell in love.

It seemed like the space was either left in a hurry or used as some sort of junk yard, because it was filled with old broken antiques and furniture. Some of it was rotting and unusable, but some of it looked like they just needed a paint job.

Harry didn’t fall in love with what was there though, he fell in love with the  _ space.  _ The concrete floors and the roof were littered with holes. The sun was at just the right spot where its rays shone through, and Harry was surrounded by  _ spotlights. _

He remembered when the lady told her what it felt like to be on a stage. How everyone’s attention was all on her, and how she felt like she was the center of the world. Harry decided that his stage would be here, in this neglected warehouse. He immediately cleared a small space for himself, and  _ danced. _


	2. Chapter 2

Tom grew up in an unloving environment. He grew up with too little food to go around and an underlying feeling of  _ getoutgetoutgetout.  _ He grew up in a world where it was _ You're Team vs them _ \- and his team had one person. In a world where those who lose, lose more than just prizes- they lose food for the evening, the ability to walk around without harassment, and support from their peers-Tom knew early on he  _ wouldn't  _ let himself lose. He, of course, knew that this would be hard with a team of one, but when has Tom ever looked away from a challenge?

Tom made himself a statement to those around him- _Don't oppose me or you'll regret it_. He put himself on a pedestal above his peers and defended it with blood and sweat, but never tears (you can't show weakness- someone will _always_ see it if you do)

It wasn't all physical violence though- with every split lip, Tom would whisper secrets to those who would help destroy the others. With every dark, blooming bruise, he'd have blackmail ready and waiting.

Tom made himself king of his world, but the problem was that his world is small. There will always be powers not accounted for- people who could change the board that he wasn’t able to always see. And Tom hated that- his pedestal, the one thing keeping him from drowning in the sea of ravaged people below was just a stepping stone for someone else’s, larger, pedestal. Tom was not going to defend, only for someone to knock him down- he wanted ( _ needed _ ) out. So when the orphanage got a letter advertising a school with a  _ dorm  _ (Somewhere he could  _ leave to _ ) _ \-  _ he took the opportunity that was given to him.

* * *

It didn't matter if it wasn't a fancy business school like Ms. Cole had hoped, but a fancy performing arts school instead. His grades were good enough for a scholarship, and the scholarship included free lunch and a bit of extra money he could use for new clothing instead of whatever books the matrons wanted him to buy (he can get them for cheap from  _ somewhere _ ).

He packed up as soon as he could and made a space for himself in his new environment. Tom would make sure he was a king there too.

It was a bit different at the school. He had to learn the rules before he could write them, but he adjusted quickly (he had to, the slow would lose and losers would be eaten alive by others). He couldn't afford to walk around with a bruised face and he  _ especially  _ couldn’t go around breaking bones- that would impede his dancing. Putting him behind even more than he already was (being a dancer wasn't his plan, but now that he's here he will be the  _ best _ ).

* * *

Tom gives his all in whatever he does; it’s a skill most people can appreciate,  _ especially  _ dancers. There were rumors when he transferred, obviously- it was strange for someone to transfer in mid year and it was even stranger yet for some  _ orphan  _ to come mid year. Don’t get him wrong- there  _ were _ “less fortunate” children who attended on scholarship, but the deadlines for those applications ended a few weeks before the school year actually started. So yes, Tom didn’t come quietly. He came to a place where cliques had formed and all new people were unknown, therefore the enemy- but most of those against him were  _ dancers. _

The rumors about him spread far and wide (to different departments even!)- rumors about the cuts and bruises he first walked in with. Some rumors were outrageous, some were more grounded in reality, but most of them put Tom in a negative light. People snubbed him, so he snubbed them back when he could afford to. Students whispered about him in the halls, and he ignored it all. Tom soon had a bit of a negative reputation, but Tom was a hard worker, and all of his teachers took note of this. He asked to stay after hours in the practice rooms, danced until his legs became sore, then came back to do it all over again in the morning. Tom was dedicated in a way that other students, the ones that knew that a dancers career was short and rough, could respect. He asked them how to properly stretch and do warm ups (it’s both easier and harder to ask a fellow student rather than a teacher). Tom grit his teeth and was careful who he put himself in debt to. He listened and watched and then he finally asked favors to those who he knew wouldn’t screw him over anytime soon.

And he was right. They were, at their core, dancers- no  _ artists- _ and while some would want to nip the flower of talent right at the bud, most just wanted to see Tom dance  _ well _

( _ and dance well he did) _

* * *

As he got better and better at dancing, the school put him in more and more performances. Tom grew to enjoy the spotlight stage, the  _ attention  _ (Look at  _ me  _ I'm here- I exist, and I am  _ important _ ). And  _ because  _ Tom needed to be the best,  _ because  _ he loved it when people saw his greatness (as he always thought he had) he gained more and more lead rolls in performances- which had one downside. Most performances have  _ two  _ lead dancers.

Which meant that Tom needed a partner- and he would accept nothing but the best. The Malfroy's fulfilled that role well enough when it came to class and to the stage, but they weren't in sync with Tom. They simply weren't good enough to dance with him. Tom is meant for greatness in life- and if his future career depends on the "Big Show" (inane name, but that's what everyone calls it), he needs a partner that can keep up. He will not be dragged through the proverbial mud because of a potentially idiotic and slow partner.

Tom spent weeks in a  _ mood _ , weeks used to torment the other dances in case one of them had some sort of "hidden talent" (even if Tom knows there is no such thing- if they had talent they would have shown it already). 

The dancers  _ did  _ get better at dancing, but nothing close to what Tom wanted-no- what Tom  _ needed  _ to see.

Then finally, a break was scheduled by the teachers- a sort of half day to let the students leave campus and relax. Tom, who could not stand the idiots, obviously also took the chance to leave and reevaluate his priorities. 

He wandered around town and discovered new cafes- the one he stopped by for an early dinner, had a seat by the large window facing the street. It was meant for people watching and that's what Tom did.

He looked and judged everyone that passed by, and relaxed when he thought about how  **horrid** they looked,  _ Hmtp, at least my classmates are better than average- they've been trained to have almost perfect posture and most are graceful enough while they walk compared to these fools-  _ and then he saw  _ him. _

Perfect posture- straight back and head held up high- he moved passed the crowd with a grace Tom didn't think could exist in other people. His open jaw let the straw fall out of his mouth and he could not stop himself from causing the chair to fall backwards as he hurried to stand. All Tom could do is try to follow the boy- he  _ needed  _ to see him dance.

Tom saw the boy do a perfect leap and he  _ needed  _ to see him spin and step and leap again

And god must have been listening because when Tom finally caught up to the boy it was to a seemingly abandoned warehouse with music flowing out.

Tom could make himself take a step in, but no further. The boy danced like no one he's seen before. The boy danced like this crumbled building was a stage. Tom had to force himself to look away and take out his phone (a piece of him hurts because you're not  _ supposed  _ to take your eyes off the dancers. You’re not  _ supposed  _ to take your phone out at performances- and he's breaking  **both** rules).

_ I knew it!  _ There in front of him, was a person worthy of sharing the stage with him, _ I knew that there was someone better suited to dance with him than the  _ **_Malfroys_ ** .

Tom could not help the sliver of glee as he recorded the dancing boy. In baggy jeans and a shirt that seemed one tear away from becoming a rag, the boy danced like he was wearing something fit for kings.

When the music stopped and the boy poised, Tom had to stop himself from applauding. He had to stop himself from asking for an encore: he had to force his legs to start walking away. It was getting late after all and it wouldn't do to miss curfew- he would see more of his new partner later anyway. After he showed the video to the teachers.

For the first time in weeks Tom felt anticipation for the "Big Show".


End file.
